Suzanne McMinn - The Billionaire And The Bassinet

And so did he. Emergency childbirth was not in his repertoire. Stocks and bonds, real estate and development, business mergers and takeovers—not babies. Definitely not babies.

“We need to get you to a doctor.” And fast. Lanie looked like a terrified rabbit, and Garrett wasn’t feeling much better himself.

“Yes.” Lanie didn’t move.

“Do you have a bag?”

She stared. “A what?”

“A bag. You know, a bag. To take to the hospital with you,” he clarified impatiently.

They always had bags in the movies, didn’t they? Garrett’s thoughts hurtled along. In fact, he was starting to feel like one of those movie dads-to-be—as in, panicked. Only in the movies, the moms-to-be always seemed to know what they were doing, and in this case Lanie wasn’t helping.

“I haven’t packed one yet.” Lanie stared at him. “You know, I might not even be in labor,” she said abruptly. “I don’t want to go to the hospital. Maybe it’s false labor. I don’t even feel anything now.” She seemed to latch on to the idea, brightening.

False labor. Garrett had no idea what that was, but he wasn’t taking any chances on ending up playing doctor in the parlor. She needed medical attention. He couldn’t be responsible for any harm coming to her unborn child, even if it wasn’t Ben’s.

“You’ve fainted,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t you at least let your doctor know about that?”

He heard the soft intake of her breath, watched her press her fingers to her lips. “You’re right.” She looked worried now.

Garrett took charge. Picking up the phone on the side table, he turned to her. “What’s your doctor’s number?” He checked his watch. He hoped her physician didn’t leave early on Fridays.

Lanie reeled off the number automatically while Garrett punched it in. When it started ringing, he handed her the phone.

Garrett listened while Lanie asked for the nurse, then described the hardening and bunching in her abdomen and reported the fainting incident. She was silent for several moments, listening, before thanking the nurse and replacing the receiver.

“Well?”

“She told me not to worry, that fainting won’t hurt the baby, but they may want to run a test for anemia. She thinks I should go ahead and come into the office so Dr. Furley can check me. As for the contractions, they might be false labor, but she wants to be sure.”

Lanie felt silly already. So much for the poise with which she normally prided herself. A few isolated contractions, and she’d practically fallen apart. She didn’t even want to think about the fainting episode. That hadn’t been like her, either.

Annoyed, she stood up and retrieved her purse and keys from the kitchen. She nursed the tiny hope that when she came back to the parlor, Garrett would have taken the hint and decided to go back to Austin. She never wanted to see him again.

Unfortunately he was standing by the door waiting for her.

“Ready?” he asked. “My car’s out front.”

Lanie did a double take. “I’ve got my own car,” she pointed out, stubborn now that the pain had gone. “I can drive myself. It’s false labor. I’m sure.” She felt perfectly fine now.

“You weren’t so sure a minute ago,” Garrett responded.

“I changed my mind.” The last person Lanie wanted assistance from was the man who’d virtually accused her of lying about her baby’s paternity. Now that she’d lost the edge off her fear, the anger at the Blakemores for doubting her word about Ben being the father of her baby returned full force.

“Well, I haven’t changed my mind.” Garrett stood his ground. “I’m not about to let you drive over there by yourself.”

Lanie stared back at him, frustrated. She’d liked him better a few minutes ago when he’d looked flustered. Unfortunately he seemed to have recovered what she suspected was his usual arrogance.

“Your opinion doesn’t matter,” she informed him coolly, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder, the keys in her hand jingling at the motion. “You were just leaving, as I recall. I can get five minutes across town to Dr. Furley’s office on my own, thank you very much. I feel okay now. Really.” She was starting to wonder if she’d imagined the severity of the contractions. She was stressed, that was all.

“I never said I was leaving. We still have business to settle—”

“No, we don’t,” Lanie said firmly, certain of at least that one thing. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not going to Austin with you, and I’m not the slightest bit interested in Walter’s tests. He can accept or not accept the baby, it’s his choice.”

At this point, all she wanted was to have the Blakemores out of her life. She regretted sending the letter in the first place. All she’d wanted was for her baby to have a chance to know his father’s family. But their reaction to her efforts wasn’t only insulting—it was frightening.

What would they want next, once she’d complied with their demands for the tests? Would they demand she move to Austin, where Walter could dominate every aspect of her child’s life?

She couldn’t let Walter do to her baby what he’d done to Ben. She needed to get away from Garrett Blakemore, and think.

Problem was, he wasn’t budging.

“I’m leaving now,” she announced as she breezed past him toward the front door, “so you’ll have to—oh!” Pain—very real pain—gripped her lower abdomen again, pulling her up short.

“Lanie?” She felt Garrett come up behind her, supporting her as she bent forward. She grabbed her swollen middle, not realizing exactly when he slid his arm around her waist, only knowing that by the time the pain passed and her breathing returned to normal, he all but held her up. His arms were strong and secure...and gentle. So gentle. How could this hard man be so gentle?

She extricated herself from his support. He let go, but his eyes held hers. She saw gentleness there, too, then it was gone and his eyes were cold again.

“My car’s out front,” he repeated.

Tears stung at Lanie’s eyes. She’d give anything if she didn’t have to accept this man’s help. She was afraid of giving him any power over her. She was afraid to need him. But she knew she had to think of her baby, put her baby first.

The pain of the last contraction had receded, but there were no two ways about it now. She could really be in labor, and she was scared.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she moved to the door. “Okay. You can drive me.” She blinked back the tears and met his gaze head-on. “But right after that, you’re leaving.”

The general practitioner’s office, located in a small, one-story professional building, was neat and modern, at least from what Garrett could see of the place. A harried-looking woman stood writing out a check at the receptionist’s counter, several toddlers clinging to her knees. Another patient, a white-haired lady who looked like she could have been in her early eighties, sat flipping through a women’s magazine. She glanced up and smiled as she observed Lanie’s condition.

After the mother and toddlers left, Lanie spoke to the receptionist while Garrett sat down. He noticed how, from the back, Lanie didn’t even look pregnant. The lines of her figure were slim as a teenager’s—long legs, slender hips, fragile-looking shoulders.

When she’d looked at him with pain, her eyes so huge and vulnerable, Garrett had wanted to just wrap her up somehow and promise her everything would be all right. It was a reaction that made no sense. Garrett crossed his arms and stared at Lanie as she came toward him and settled in the empty seat beside him.

“It’ll be just a minute,” she said.

“How are you feeling?” The one thing he was sure she wasn’t faking was the pain. The terror on her face back at the house had been real.